I own nothing. I hope you like.
One note: I'm moving into some territories I'm not sure about. So if you, dear reader, stumble over something that makes you simply go "fuck this, I'm out", please leave a review telling me how I messed up. But I think I did OK.
Enjoy.
Chasing Through Hell
Dealing
Maurus raised his shield, feeling the impact of the spell hit, seeing tongues of flame lick harmlessly along its edges and swung his mace in a diagonal arc. The blow missed as his opponents stepped apart to avoid it and the middle opponent surged forward, taking a blow from Calen on his shield to get in close. His sword darted up in an attack that was the opposite number to Maurus', striking his neck from below before smacking against the side of his helmet and two numbing pulses of pain spread from the points of impact. Maurus snarled savagely, the sound becoming a roar as he dragged his weapon into a blow before his opponent managed to complete the three-point attack with a stab. He mostly hit with his broad forearm but it still flung the attacker several feet back to land on his back before he followed up with an attack to the orc on his right that sent him to the ground with a cry of pain.
Teeth grinding, he turned his shield and slammed its edge down into the shoulder of the attacker to his left, knocking him off balance. Before he could recover, Calen brought him to the ground with a bash of his shield and raised his mace for what would be a killing blow.
A flash of light filled Maurus' vision and his eyes blurred as his helmet turned so hot that he could smell the singed padding and feel his fur curl. He raised his shield and his mace, heart thudding an angry drumbeat against his chest and stomped blindly toward where the blast of fire had come.
"You're dead. Twice," rasped a voice flatly. His ears flicked in irritation, picking up a murmur and a familiar crackle of flame amid the buzz of the camp and he stopped abruptly. Then he threw his mace to the ground with a snarl and stood for a moment, clenching and unclenching his empty hand as his vision returned to normal.
"So are you," he ground out eventually, glancing at Mathias, who had stood up from where he'd been thrown. Red dust clung to his armor, making the dark skull designs on it look even more sinister. "A little higher and I'd gotten you in the neck."
An unsteady inhale made him look to the left, where he found Drim slowly getting up, his posture stiff from pain. Crava was still on the ground, his breathing unsteady because he tried to breathe carefully while his body craved as deep breaths as possible. A pang of guilt snapped through his anger and he waved his shield arm at the two. "Break. Calen, Shayla, fix them."
He didn't need to look at the shaman or the paladin to know that his brusque tone put them off, but despite their displeasure, they swiftly set to work. From the rest of the soldiers around Maurus came a collective sigh at the word 'break'. Most of them, particularly the ones that had participated and been downed during the latest exercise, were looking considerably more tired than usual, standing or sitting with a slight slump to in their posture despite their best efforts to hide it.
The continued crackle of flame made Maurus turn his eyes to Wiven. He looked unruffled, seeming almost ecstatic where he stood, seven feet from Maurus, with a proper fireball playing in his hands and a taunt in his eyes.
"Good. Now snuff that before anyone gets hurt," he growled. "And get us some water."
Wiven raised an eyebrow and waved a hand, trailing fading flame, at the barrel standing nearby.
"You're offense is impressive today. But this isn't the time for that ferocity," Mathias said flatly, making Maurus turn his head to him. He'd almost silently moved to stand beside Maurus while he'd spoken to the others. "It's demoralizing. And reckless."
"You're no use if your head roasts inside that helmet," Wiven agreed as he sauntered over to them.
Maurus' jaw clenched, pressing his teeth together so hard it almost hurt, but it was no use. The anger he'd built up during the mock battle, close to an actual battle rage, was slipping off him, like the heat from a pot that had been taken off the fire. As it did, he became more aware of how tired he felt, how tired the rest must be after a morning of constant drills and of the throbbing where Mathias had hit him.
"A few more and I'll hurt enough that I have to avoid fatal blows," he growled. Spoken out loud, the words sounded petulant and stupid but at least his annoyance with himself was something to focus on. He picked up his mace and glanced around at the tired soldiers.
"Training's over," he barked. "If anyone wants to spend their time properly, find Widget and get some practice with the bombs."
"Finally," Mathias said. "I think they might have revolted if you kept the pace you."
Maurus just grunted and began walking away. Mathias let out an exasperated groan, and Wiven said, in a low voice that Maurus almost failed to pick up: "Sometimes, his youth really shows, don't you think?"
Maurus almost felt grateful for the remark as it fanned the fading anger, making it easier to hold onto the emotion, but he didn't stop or reply to his friends. Instead, he kept walking, leaving them behind as he headed north, rather than south where their campsite was, and trudged toward the large tents he could see a good stone's throw away from their training area. As he walked, his eyes wandered toward the luminescent crystals looming over the plain and almost wished for an attack. He quickly shook that thought off though, feeling disgusted with himself. Even if the army was weathering each attack with more skill than the last, people died in them and the colossi were still an unknown. He couldn't wish for battle just to keep his attention directed outward.
He ducked into the tent farthest away from the training ground, stepping into a long, dim space that smelled strongly of ale, sweat and smoke. It was maybe the size of a small inn, though far more open. Only the occasional table and the evenly spaced tent poles broke his field of vision to the makeshift counter made from wine barrels topped with wooden boards and there was maybe a quarter of the guests it could hold.
As he made his way around the people sitting and lying in sullen clusters between him and the counter, he noticed a feeble blue light shimmer on the left side of the counter, outlining the broad back of a tauren woman who sat, seemingly alone except for her white bear, on that side of the bar. On an impulse, he went around that side instead of simply sitting on the nearest stool.
The temperature dropped suddenly as he came near the tauren, going from stiflingly hot to the almost chilly temperature of Mulgore in the evening. He glanced around the black-furred tauren, looking over her bear and spotting a robed troll woman, her blue skin and turquoise hair turned even bluer by the shimmer of frost around her. Behind her, several other troll women looked deep in their cups already.
Satisfied that he'd been correct, he claimed the low stool beside the female tauren, relishing in the chill after over a month of constant heat, and called out to the troll woman behind the counter. A moment later, he had three dark bottles standing in front of him, next to his discarded helmet.
'At least taking the Citadel was good for one thing,' he thought. Now that the Citadel was held by the Horde and the Alliance held Honor hold, steps had been taken to secure the peninsula properly and the supply lines were now so well-established that more than just the bare necessities came with the caravans. Quite a wide variety of goods, and services, were now available to the soldiers, though at the moment, not having to pay through the nose for wine seemed the most important to Maurus.
He tugged at the cork on one of the bottles but turned his head when he felt a gaze on him. He found the tauren looking at him at him, her eyes narrowed, nostrils flared.
He flicked an ear and steadily met the gaze of the tauren, who, with her charcoal fur and immaculate braids, looked decidedly Grimtotem. A small, detached part of him was wondering what he'd done to provoke such a reaction, but most of him was tensing in response to her hostile demeanor while his irritation swiftly grew into anger.
"Of all the room in here, you had to sit there?" She asked darkly.
"Have I taken someone's seat?" Maurus asked in return, tone just shy of matching the other tauren's hostility. When she hesitated in answering, he turned his attention back to the bottle, pulled the cork from it and took a swig. "Blame your friend for making a refuge from the heat."
When he heard a heavy thump, he glanced left again and found that the bear had risen and slammed a paw down on the packed dirt. When his eyes met the bear's, it blew out a loud breath and clacked its teeth, keeping its teeth bared afterwards. Maurus looked from the bear to the tauren, who'd turned halfway away, yet still kept glaring at him out the corner of her eye. Eschewing the restraint and letting his look turn into a full glower, he said: You don't want to make a fight of this. I've skinned bigger bears than yours."
The tauren jerked her head back round to look straight at him, pure rage in her eyes. The bear thumped the ground again, though this time Maurus didn't glance at it, holding the tauren's gaze. His hand tightened around the neck of his wine bottle and he felt a rush of anticipation underneath his rage.
"Kiluq," said a rough, rolling voice and the tauren stiffened. With obvious effort, she pulled back and schooled her features into something less murderous. As she did, the troll added, firm and admonishing: "Sarge."
The interruption sliced through Maurus' restless belligerence, the anger he'd worked up slipping from him as he registered the latter word with blank surprise. Blinking, he glanced past the tauren, Kiluq, he supposed, to the green eyes of the troll mage on her other side. At first glance she looked simply annoyed, leaning on the counter, but her mouth was set in a hard line and the hand she had on the counter was covered by a fine layer of frost.
It was tempting to summon back the anger at the restrained threat, but Maurus held back and instead snorted out a breath. He waved a hand and grumbled: "Not a sergeant."
Kiluq had placed a hand on the neck of her bear and both looked calmer, but the latter still looked ready to pounce and the former's eyes were still angry and wary.
Maurus didn't know what her issue was, but he reminded himself that he hadn't acted with as much restraint as he should. He kept his gaze on the trio for a moment longer before turning forward.
"I'll stay here, quietly," he said flatly. He grabbed one of the unopened bottles and slid it to his left. "Peace," he added, half a question, half a demand. He stubbornly refused to glance back at Kiluq, instead raising his open bottle to his lips and doing his best to empty it. The drink was sour and unappealing coming down and seemed to irreparably douse his anger, which, as he picked up the second bottle, seemed petulant and embarrassing in hindsight.
Then again, the point had been specifically to be angry and he missed it by the time he finished the second bottle, because the wine only managed to make him sluggish, giving him neither the sense of excitement nor the pleasant relaxed feeling he usually got from getting drunk. He looked down into the rough wood of the counter and for a moment he wanted nothing more than to remove it and take an axe to the barrel beneath so he could plunge his head into the wine inside. That would get him to the stage where he simply stopped caring pretty quickly.
Figuring the barkeep would take a dim view of that action, he instead cradled his head in one hand and held up a pair of coppers. Three more bottles were quickly deposited in front of him.
"He's going to drink himself right off that stool. Unsightly for a spirit walker," Kiluq said. She managed to sound at once disapproving and like she looked forward to his fall, though her volume suggested she hadn't meant for him to overhear. Despite himself, Maurus glanced at the tauren again, feeling only vague annoyance this time, remembering that, while most of the Grimtotem looked similar to her, there were far more black tauren who weren't in that tribe.
"Seems the place for it, doesn't it?" he asked. He tossed his head in the direction of the tent and its quiet, sullen inhabitants. Even most of those sitting in groups seemed more interested in their bottles than in their company. With a scoff he added: "I'm no walker. Can't you see the plate?"
Kiluq glanced at him, looking chagrined for a moment, but quickly looked back to her friend, ignoring him. Maurus returned his attention to the wine, taking another long draught and felt warmth spread across his skin. It took him a moment to realize that it had nothing to do with the alcohol and glanced to the side as Kiluq complained: "Aw, why did you stop?"
The troll, no longer bathed in the faint blue light of her frost magic, shrugged. "It's tiring in the long run."
"I hate the heat," Kiluq grumbled, almost petulantly. As the heat of the tent quickly seeped into Maurus' fur again, he found himself agreeing with her.
"We can't escape it forever," the troll said reasonably, lifting the bottle Maurus had pushed their way.
"I hate this place. I hate this war. I hated Stranglethorn, the Swamp and the Blasted Lands too."
The troll took a solid gulp of the bottle as Kiluq went on. "It feels like the swamp water still sits in my leather and I'll never get the dust out of Siho's or my fur. Why didn't we just stay in Winterspring?"
The troll upended the bottle as Kiluq's tirade gained momentum and Maurus sighed. For a few moments, he stayed in his seat, but Kiluq only seemed to get more into it, so with a grunt, he rose, grabbed the last bottle and his helmet and walked away. The cool was gone, Kiluq was just adding annoyance to his gloom without distracting him from it and she had one point: He was acting unsightly.
Just before he left the tent, he thought he head the troll say something like 'he's gone, you can stop now', but the complaints didn't slow as he came out into the half-light of the Peninsula.
He made his way back toward the campsite, struggling to avoid swaying now that the rapid rise had sent the booze surging through his veins. As he did, he internally berated himself. It should be beneath him to act like he had. Distracting himself with anger was all well and good, but Mathias was right. He was pushing the others away and it was not fitting for a leader to take out his personal issues on his men. Trying to pick a fight with an admittedly bad-tempered stranger just for reminding him of things he wanted to forget wasn't excusable either.
'And I already know this won't work till I'm unconscious,' he thought, putting the bottle to his lips in spite of the thought.
A series of flat, distant booms made him look southward, down across the sloping plain, past the unfinished watch tower in the south end of the Horde camp and the blues, whites and yellows of the Alliance camp, to the valley south of it all. He squinted as he looked at the clumsy, grey and blue shapes of gyrocopters and the flashes of light where explosives rocked the mountainside.
Around him people stopped or slowed, looking south like he did and the quality of the background murmur changed.
The reaction to the bombs was almost immediate and tiny black shapes swarmed down the slope like ants and as they closed, the distant sound of brass trumpets sounded. At that signal, the dwarves and gnomes along the lip of the valley began firing, raining down bullets and mortar shell on the rock flayers as they charged across the valley. The result was a terrifying reminder of the destructive power of engineers, as wide holes were torn in the host, thinning their number greatly, though failing to dissuade their charge. Maurus couldn't see into the closest end of the valley, but the fact that the rock flayers didn't come crawling up into the Alliance camp gave away that the Alliance had forces ready to meet the them.
He nodded to himself in faint approval. He had heard nothing of this, though that wasn't surprising. News did travel fast, but not across the Alliance-Horde divide. That was the extent he could make himself care though and as he made his way through the crowd, he only paid enough attention to idly note that as the rock flayers fought, the gyrocopters kept bombing the cave entrances.
People around him took a little longer to grow bored or remember they had places to be, though when they did, the crowd seemed to thicken with mass and urgency. Maurus found himself glowering at the people coming too close, not quite trusting his balance or the honesty of everyone around him.
Someone bumped into him, making him stagger and he bared his teeth, twisting to look for who it had been, only managing to almost overbalance himself. As he did, he padded the bags at his side, the motion habitual and unconscious, and frowned. He slipped his hand into the bag he usually kept health stones in and felt something smooth and round, before something hot stung his hand.
The wine bottle fell from his other hand and his heart leapt into his throat. He closed his hand around the small, smooth ball, ignoring the pain burning into his palm as he drew it out and hurled it up, as hard as he could. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he had just enough presence of mind to yell: "Down!"
He'd meant to throw it straight up, but when the explosion rang out, short, sharp and loud enough to leave his ears ringing, the weight of it hit him at an angle and he dropped to one knee to avoid stumbling backward. A handful pings sounded as metal pattered against his shoulders and neck and the pained exclamations erupting from around him made him glad he was in full armor.
He pushed himself to his feet, staggering and looked around. People in a wide ring around him looked disoriented, many of them clutching bleeding, but mostly superficial wounds. A few lay on the ground, moaning and a single orc in reddish leather armor lay terribly still, blood flowing from his cracked skull in quickly slowing pulses. Further away, people rushed to help or simply carried on walking.
After a moment of gawking, Maurus focused, searching the crowd for whoever had slipped the bomb into his pouch, but he hadn't seen whoever had hit him and with so many people both coming closer and leaving, none looked more suspicious than the others.
There was a sudden smell of grass and then thin, sickly-looking roots sprang from the ground, curling tightly around his limbs. He struggled instinctively against the roots, but despite their frail appearance, they held him with a strength he was completely unable to fight.
A large, brown-furred tauren, even taller and broader than Maurus himself, stepped up in front of him. The loose leather armor, decorated with smooth, yellow fur and, and the abundant bone charms and talismans in his hair, on his straight horns and thick wrists and around his neck, left no doubt that he was a druid. His expression left no doubt that he was angry.
He wasn't the only one. Some of the onlookers not wholly occupied with helping the wounded looked at him as well, expression darkening.
"The hell was that?" The druid asked, gesturing at the sky with a hand still trailing wisps of green.
Maurus' heartbeat was only just slowing down and the bare steel some of the other onlookers were holding weren't helping. "Us getting lucky," he said, voice slightly unsteady. He'd come so close to experiencing one of the things he'd feared since beginning to accept Widget's help. He pressed against his bonds again and grunted: "Let me go."
The druid's eyes narrowed and tossed his head to the side. Maurus followed the motion and saw the hostile onlookers closing and behind them, grunts in their familiar red armor were rushing forward. "Stay back," one of them, a tall orc, shouted and one of the others coolly smacked aside one of the approaching hostile orcs with the flat of his axe. "We'll take care of this."
"What was that?" The druid asked insistently and now that Maurus looked at him, the expression mixed outrage and incomprehension. The druid added: "Why would you do that?"
Comprehension dawned on Maurus. There were plenty of areas where the tauren tribes clashed with the rest of the Horde, mostly concerning how to treat the land and the forsaken and arguments, minor clashes and small scale sabotage weren't uncommon. But unlike the forsaken, orcs or maybe blood elves, there was no way any tauren would ever further the Legion's cause.
"I tried to survive the live bomb someone slipped into my bag," he spat, as the grunts reached him. "Didn't you hear my warning?"
The druid's eyebrows rose, but he waved his hands as the grunts passed him, and the roots abruptly fell away, just in time for the grunts to close with Maurus, axes ready.
"Don't move," the leader ordered. Maurus clenched his teeth in annoyance and had to fight to contain himself as they claimed his weapons. "What was that?" He echoed the druid and Maurus rolled his eyes.
"You heard me before," he said flatly and the grunt leader nodded briskly, giving a grunt. He glanced around, his expression tightening.
"Camp?" He asked. Maurus told him, and the grunt barked a few orders and they set off, the druid in tow, leaving behind three of the grunts. One the way, the grunt leader, Kal, interrogated Maurus with stony insistence. Maurus simply repeated the little he'd noticed several times, realizing as he did how inattentive he'd been. He had no idea whether Kal believed him.
He ended up sitting in the camp for hours, guarded by the grunts and slowly sobering up. Mathias, Wiven and Arianna were all absent, but the grunts questioned everyone else, who either vouched for Maurus or, at worst, expressed their dislike at the same time as their doubt that he would willingly work against the Horde.
He found that a little encouraging, though mostly he chafed under the scrutiny of the grunts.
Eventually Payta appeared in the camp and her vouchsafe seemed enough to satisfy Kal, though only to the degree that he left a grunt behind, a troll Maurus didn't care to remember the name of, and told Maurus not to go anywhere without him.
"Who's the blue guy?" Mathias said in greeting when he and Wiven returned. Wiven looked more ruffled than he'd been when Maurus had last seen him, but both of them looked considerably more relaxed.
"Apparently, my warden," Maurus grumbled. The bored-looking troll, sitting beside a few of the trolls belonging to the camp, lifted the manacles lying beside him in greeting.
"At least he doesn't look obsessive," Wiven said lazily.
Maurus raised an eyebrow at him, wondering where that comment came from.
"You didn't seem that out of control," Mathias said. There was a question in his tone and there might have been a slight hint of concern in it, thought the latter was so faint as to be almost impossible to hear.
"They suspect me of treason," Maurus said darkly. His troll grunt snorted in almost perfect unison with Mathias, though Mathias' snort was much more forceful than the troll's.
"That's ridiculous," Mathias said, with complete conviction, but immediately afterward, he added, in the tone used for asking what had gotten the fun troublemaker in trouble: "What did you do?"
Maurus shook his head and recounted his story again.
"That's new," Wiven said, when Maurus finished.
Mathias had looked around the moment Maurus reached the part with the bomb and now he simply looked at Maurus, the fingers of his left hand tapping the hilt of dagger. He opened his mouth, but Maurus spoke over him: "It wasn't Zarul. The elf's friends would have noticed, or the animals, and I doubt he's stupid enough to infiltrate now that he can't fly to get out quickly."
The impatient energy left Mathias as he slumped a little. "If only it was that easy."
"More traitors," Wiven said. He sounded simply irritated, but there was a wild fury in his eyes and a flicker of light played over his hands.
'I wonder if he'll explode one day,' Maurus thought absently. His magic did seem to show itself more and more often.
"No people without them," Mathias agreed, his lips twitching in a bitter smile. He looked back to Maurus and said: "Maybe it's good you got someone to watch over you."
"He's not here for that," Maurus said.
"Won't hurt," Mathias said with a shrug.
"Unless someone stabs him in the back," Maurus grumbled. "That would make me popular."
The troll frowned at Maurus. Mathias did as well, but without the hostility. "That's a tad more pessimistic than usual," he said. "I'm not sure if I should be proud or sad."
Maurus snorted. "That's the second time I've almost been blown to bits, in camp, without the goblins having an active hand in it. Last time, Zarul managed sabotage and discord in one. This time-"
He trailed off, remembering how his thoughts had immediately gone to Widget's explosives. "This time, he could have gone for revenge as well. I've given him plenty of reason to hate me."
'I've given someone else that too,' came the unbidden thought and there was a cold twist in his belly, but he tried to push it aside. He tossed his head like he would to scare off flies and mentally chided himself. Hate was definitely an exaggeration and irrelevant for the moment. That truth was weak comfort though.
Mathias hummed in thought. "If the Legion's servant are as few as we think, it seems stupid to risk them on revenge."
"Not if there was an additional goal," Wiven said. He waved a hand in vague direction of the plain of colossi to the north. "Had he exploded as planned, it would have looked like a misfire. Light knows that any sane man is wary of the goblins' creations, but if they begin exploding in people's pockets, we might stop using them."
"Weakening us," Maurus said darkly, "and maybe even isolating the goblins. But one won't-"
He rose quickly, along with Mathias. Wiven got to his feet as well, though his movement was a languid, unconcerned one, showing none the alarm Maurus' did.
There was a clink of metal and Maurus glanced back at the grunt, who'd also risen and let out a growl.
"Go find command. I guess I'm not going anywhere near."
The troll shook his head and Mathias rolled his eyes.
"When you're done, try to find the elf. I'll do the same."
Mathias frowned for a moment, but then something seemed to click and he nodded even as he turned around.
"If you explode, I'll be disappointed. I'm not done beating you up," he said over his shoulder.
"Likewise," Maurus snorted. To Wiven he added: "Aren't you on water-duty?"
"Filled my quota for now," he answered. "With any luck, something will need burning now. I barely got to singe you."
Maurus glowered halfheartedly after the elf as he followed Mathias out of the camp. Then he turned it on the troll. "You're not going to do anything?"
"Here to watch ya. Not ta stop ya."
That was something at least.
Maurus took Payta aside and told her the bare bones of it, suggesting permanent guard on the camp, before going out to look for Arianna, feeling much more worried about her than about the traitor problem itself. He felt the worry very acutely, despite his rational mind telling him it was out of proportion to the danger to her.
He had no idea where Arianna's secretive group had set up, due to her reluctance to bring him, but he knew the main body of the blood elves had set up along the half-finished tower further south and he had a vague idea where some of the more suspect elements, like warlocks, were situated in the camp.
He had little luck, though it was hard to judge whether it was because none of those he asked knew or if they just didn't want to tell him. Over half of them were dismissive, bordering on rude, while only a few showed him anything but basic courtesy.
And while he searched, the troll walked blithely along behind him, manacles slung over his back. Only when Maurus stumbled on the way away from a particularly rude warlock did he speak at all.
"Think ya should go back."
Maurus blinked slowly and frowned at him. "Why?"
"Ya dead on your feet, mon. Not dragging ya back and it'd be very, very boring waiting for ya when ya fall asleep face-first in the ground."
Maurus opened his mouth and couldn't resist the loud yawn that struggled out. After a moment of internal debate, he grudgingly followed the troll's suggestion. He had a point, seeing as Maurus hadn't managed any sleep since Arianna had walked off early that morning.
He woke the next day feeling physically well-rested but emotionally exhausted. There was a heavy, dark gloom in his head and the embarrassment and guilt of drowning his sadness first in anger and then in drink, only added to it.
He lay in the heavy heat of the tent for a time, mentally berating himself for being childish while he struggled to make himself actually get up. Eventually, he managed to stifle the self-admonishment, telling himself to own his mistakes and his sadness.
Both would be hard, but at least he had a clear grasp on how to fix the most recent of the former and that thought was enough to motivate him to set his elbows against the ground and push himself up into a sitting position.
He frowned as he looked toward the tent flap and noticed that the small, empty bag he'd placed there had been knocked over and the scraps and pieces of junk he'd lain on it now lay strewn a hand's breadth from his hooves. Then the explosion flashed in his mind and instead of worrying about what the intruder might have taken, his heartbeat quickened at the thought of what might have been left behind.
After a few moments of frantically looking around the tent, he found nothing out of place and only then did it occur to him how foolish his actions were. It was as unlikely as to be almost impossible that he would have woken in time to avoid a live bomb, if someone would even attempt that again and a small, troubling voice in the back of his head made him suddenly acutely aware of his bare chest and legs and how open that left him to one of the many virulent poisons he knew existed.
Not to mention the possibility of just setting the tent on fire.
He snorted loudly, tossed on his trousers and his belt and crawled out of the tent.
His stomach flipped with joy and an immediate subsequent sadness as his eyes instantly found blonde hair and red robes. A green-tinged light flickered over the side of her face, cast by the flame burning in the rough shape of a wind serpent in her upraised palm.
Maurus stood watching her for a moment, torn between leaving her to her thoughts and going over to her. He'd just decided and lifted his hoof to step toward her when she glanced back at him. Her face was a blank mask, though she looked as terribly tired as she had when he'd last seen her, even dishevelled now that he looked at her hair, and she simply held his gaze before inclining her head subtly toward the spot beside her. Even before she did, Maurus had taken the next step, deciding that he didn't care to stand around hesitating anymore. He eased himself down beside her and, not quite sure of what to say, simply nodded to the fire construct, saying: "I didn't know you could do that."
Arianna shrugged as the little fire creature flew in a small loop over her hand, a coil of brilliant, almost solid flame.
"I guess I shouldn't have expected you to be less skilled than Wiven."
She gave him a flat look that made her agreement with his statement abundantly clear and the expression was so familiar that he felt more at ease despite it being no warm expression. As if to stress her silent answer, the little fire serpent circled her hand before leaping of it into the air and coming apart in a shower of sparks. Maurus tilted his head in acknowledgement.
A few moments passed in silence before he glanced back at his tent and asked: "Did you see anyone near my tent?"
She studied him impassively and just when he thought she wouldn't answer, her expression changed slightly and she said dismissively: "I think you kicked the pile down yourself. I heard it."
He flicked an ear and carefully his tentative smile back, relieved and a little gratified. He'd been setting that pile up every time he left the tent or went to sleep for a while now and he'd only knocked it over at the very beginning. More importantly, if he'd kicked it, it would have fallen outward and he doubted its collapse made much noise, even to elvish ears.
"I'm glad you're alright," Maurus said. At Arianna's brief look of disbelief he added, waving a hand at her face: "We'll, except for your lack of sleep."
She blinked and rubbed an eye with the back of her hand, the gesture oddly childish, betraying how tired she was. Maurus had the sudden urge to reach out to her, in support or comfort, but restrained himself. Impassively, she said: "You looked for me."
"I was this close to being so much steak and scrap," he said a little wryly, holding up two fingers so they almost touched. Quietly and seriously and with a bit of hesitation fluttering from his stomach into his voice, he continued: "I was worried."
A hint of a wan smile appeared on Arianna's face. For a while she said nothing and Maurus found himself missing the bones and tools he'd worked with the previous week, for something to do with his hands. He honestly wanted to simply charge ahead and convince her to look past his mistakes, but he saw little hope of that, considering he hadn't forgiven himself for it either. And even if he had, he would be an insensitive fool if he thought he could simply convince her like that.
"I asked around. The Grimtotem has quite a reputation."
Maurus had been caught up in his own thought, so it took him a moment to register the statement and another to recover from the sudden subject change. He nodded slowly, eyes on Arianna's face.
"You might have gotten lucky," she said and Maurus' lips twitched as instant, violent anger flared in his belly, the faces of Sowa and Tuga flashing before his mind's eye. "Word is that one doesn't leave their hunting parties."
Those words, and the unease in them doused the anger almost as quickly.
"That's just-" he began, but he trailed off, remembering the last time he saw the pair and feeling cold settle in his stomach. They hadn't spoken to him when left for Windshear Crag but simply watched him go in stony silence. He'd thought at the time they looked worried, maybe somewhat angry and he still thought they'd been worried, but now that he thought about it, seemingly with more clarity than before, they'd looked pained, with anger lurking beneath heavy sadness.
He blinked and swallowed heavily, feeling like someone had stuck a knife in his gut as he hit upon two more words that described them at that moment: grimly determined.
Maurus almost jumped when he felt her hot hand on his arm and his vision was a little blurry when he looked at Arianna and found a hint of regret on her face before she regained the wan smile and said: "I'm glad you didn't fall victim to that. And not just because I'd be dead if you had."
It was the oddest thing, some distant part of him thought, that she could, in two sentences, induce a gut-wrenching feeling of betrayal, soothe it somewhat and almost immediately spark a thrilling hope, making the two emotions swirl dizzyingly in him. With only slight hesitance, he covered her hand with his and said, voice more steady than he felt: "So am I. Do you-"
He trailed off, not really sure how to end that sentence. Again, he wanted to do something, to act, but he couldn't force this. Arianna had the right to make up her own mind.
She took a deep breath. Then another. Then she finally said, the words obviously taking some effort: "You didn't hurt me. And you've amply demonstrated that you regret it."
'That's true. If an understatement, especially after getting to know you,' he thought, his heartbeat quickening as the direction of the conversation made his hope grow. Outwardly, he showed no reaction except for nodding solemnly.
"We do all make mistakes," Arianna said slowly. She studied her right hand as she conjured a jagged, dark flame. He could hear it took effort to keep her voice steady as she added: "Some would say my people have made a few, particularly those of us who took up the enemy's weapons."
Maurus ran a thumb over her hand and grunted. "I'm not sure," he said, the words honest but hard get out. He forced some of his misgivings to the back of his mind and simply stated what he'd seen: "It seems your craft only harms the enemy. And possibly yourself. The demons are already here."
Arianna's eyes warmed and her lips twitched. "That's not what you said at first."
Maurus shook his head ruefully. "You made some sense," he admitted. Honestly, he was far from happy with the demonic magic, but the issue didn't seem as simple anymore. "I guess the Warchief has the right of it, for now. And I can't help but admire your strength."
A while passed before Arianna replied: "Did you know you showed me more courtesy when we met than many of my own people do?"
Maurus felt his eyebrows rise high on his head as he looked at her and spotted the hint of pain beneath her faint smile. At first he had no idea how to respond, but then he recalled bits and pieces of what Wiven and Arianna had told them of the rebuilt Quel'Thalas and asked, the indignation in his voice directed at the blood elves at large: "Your warlocks aren't the only ones leaning on demons for power, are they?"
Arianna gave a minute shake of her head.
"Hypocrites," Maurus spat.
Arianna tilted her head to the side in a gesture that wasn't quite agreement.
"We're more suspicious since the Fall," she said, sounding almost like she found it completely reasonable. She hesitated and Maurus thought she looked almost fragile, for the first time, when she added: "Now that we've seen signs of renegade blood elves, they aren't happy with those who walk along the edge."
She must have seen his thoughts in his eyes, because she quickly added, voice grumbling: "Of course, the stupid ones disagree with my company too."
Maurus felt like he'd been slapped and Arianna only seemed to realize what she'd said when she saw his expression change. She blinked and looked momentarily regretful and Maurus schooled his expression in response, swallowing down the hurt and annoyance.
When he lifted his hand from hers, a flicker of worry appeared in her eyes, but it only last till he reached out for her shoulder and he felt intense relief when she allowed him to press her gently against his side.
"Are you an outcast?" he asked seriously.
Arianna considered for a moment before answering.
"Not quite. Many are just wary," she said. He searched her face, but she didn't seem to be lying.
"Do we drag you down?"
This time her jaw set and her voice was completely firm when she said: "Not in the eyes of anyone I care about."
'That's a relief', Maurus thought. Out loud, he said: "I think we're getting off track."
"Maybe," Arianna hedged.
"Can you forgive what I did?" Maurus asked, feeling abruptly like he was standing before the executioner's block.
Arianna took what seemed like a long time to answer. "I want to."
Another moment passed, before she asked: "What do you want?"
'That was a very broad question,' Maurus thought and shrugged. He considered his words for a moment. "To rise above what I've done. Zarul's head on a spear." He paused, caught Arianna's eyes and said, simply, firmly: "You."
A smile stretched Arianna's pale lips and she reached up, running the back of her hand down his cheek. Her fever-hot skin was soft and smooth against his fur and the rough scar where Zarul's claw had punched through.
"Likewise," she said quietly.
Feeling a grin spread his lips, Maurus impulsively pulled Arianna into his lap and enveloped her in his broad arms. She reacted with a little yelp that made him think for a moment he'd made a mistake, but she relaxed almost immediately, leaning back against his chest and warming it as surely as the joy within him. Once again, he noticed that she felt remarkably soft and with her weight resting mostly on and against him, he couldn't help but notice that her robe really wasn't that thick.
"Don't get ahead of yourself," she said, though her tone and the way she adjusted her position just the slightest bit removed any bite there might have been in the words, as well as reminding him that, without his armor, there wasn't much covering him either. "We're not sharing a bedroll just yet."
"I wouldn't expect that," Maurus said, his voice a little low. Spurred by a flash of exhilaration, he added teasingly: "I understand if you find the prospect intimidating."
More seriously, he added: "Would that disgrace you?"
Her hair brushed against him as she turned to look up at him and he tilted his head so he could turn an eye down to look at her. "You do know I'm not exactly inexperienced, right?"
His jaw clenched at the thought of someone else touching Arianna, but out loud he said, mostly truthfully: "I should hope not. That would be a very long century."
Arianna gave a quiet snort and relaxed slightly, though he doubted he would have noticed it had she not been leaning against him.
"But I meant bedding a non-elf," Maurus said. "You said your people mean everything to you. I can't part you from them, no matter how much of an arrogant, grim, unappreciative bunch they are."
That put a tension in her again and he looked at her in concern, seeing her expression had darkened again.
"You really don't mind my experience? Some of the young- The humans do, at least," she said.
Maurus snorted. "Trying to enforce those human rules on tauren would result in violence. I think Payta would rip someone's head off if she had to live like that."
His words failed to get the expected laugh from her. Instead her expression remained dark and he closed his arms tighter around her, hugging her to him.
"I've mostly made my peace with your fel magicks. I doubt the rest of the bones under your rug can drive me away. I'm just worried about your relation to your people."
Arianna blinked and something bright flashed in her eyes before her expression became determined. She breathed deeply and then said, voice almost airy: "Do you remember how I got my staff?"
Maurus nodded, his eyes flicking to the length of smooth, black wood and the fel crystal held in its rootlike top. He frowned as a cold suspicion coiled in his gut.
"You can get surprisingly far by seduction. Felspeaker Azut missed the elfin female and didn't seem to be able to think with more than one head at a time." Arianna shrugged. "Though, being a satyr, that might be to be expected. Easiest assassination I've ever made, after I'd ridden him to exhaustion."
Despite the Arianna's nonchalance seeming mostly genuine, the words made Maurus' insides roil with a volatile mix of disgust and simple fury and a sudden desire for violence coursed through him, blisteringly hot and frustrating as hell because he had no reasonable target for it. It took him a moment to gather himself and stop his growl, but when he did, he focused on keeping his tongue in check and gave Arianna a squeeze. Before he could form a response, Arianna added: "And Mathias is right. I might have to help sustain my race."
Maurus thoughts, which he'd barely got into order from the initial shock of the first revelation, were again thrown into disarray by Arianna's words and it took a number of deep breaths and a short while to get his emotions back under a modicum of control. When he did, he lowered his gaze from the sky, which it'd drifted to while he got his bearings, and muttered numbly: "You don't pull your punches, Arianna."
She looked up into his eyes, a defiant tilt to her head, though there was worry behind it too. Her voice was carefully bland as she said: "Neither did you. Getting it all out in the open seemed to be for the best."
Maurus let that sink in for a few moments, mulling over what he could and should say. It took him longer than he would have liked and judging by the worry slowly breaking through Arianna's control, longer than she would have liked too. Unable to quickly get his thoughts in order, he gave her another squeeze as he thought. He'd never even considered that cloak and dagger could entail that method, even though he, now that he thought about it, could remember at least one tauren tale going something like that. Though there, the seduced Tokan got drugged by the heroine before anything happened.
Finally, he said: "Kids. I'll, we'll cross that stream when I get to it. About-" He stopped, closed and opened his eyes and said, with a firm tone that was almost as much for his ears as for Arianna's: "I can't hold your actions against you. And I won't. You were hardly beholden to me then. Not sure you are now either."
Arianna let out a sigh and leaned back against him, seeming mostly satisfied.
"It is kind of scary that you could kill just after." It came out in a low mutter, slipped out really.
"It made it easier. It wasn't very pleasant, but it worked," Arianna said, a note of distaste in her voice. "He was too much on his guard the rest of the time and that way it took a while before the others noticed. I wouldn't have made it to that clearing without a lead."
They fell into silence and Maurus thought. He'd gotten things into a semblance of order, but he doubted he would get everything sorted properly soon. For now though, he would call himself satisfied with the feeling of Arianna nestled within his arms. A thought occurred to him and he said: "You never answered my question. Will it disgrace you?"
"The rumor mill has us being far further along than we are, so it won't change much." She shifted, turning around in his lap and pressing against his arms so she could face him properly. He adjusted his arms as she did, ending up with one hand broad on the small of her back and one below that, resting over the curve of her backside. His mouth curled in a lazy smirk, caused in part by the their position and Arianna's lack of protest, but also owing to the sudden, errant thought of how odd it felt that his hand could slip so far down without being stopped by a tail.
Arianna seemed to sense his amusement, raising her eyebrow a fraction of an inch, but she didn't question it. Instead she kept looking at him with warmth in her eyes and defiance in the set of her jaw and the curve of her smile. "We might as well give them more to work with."
Maurus' smile widened and he leaned in toward her, tilting his head and closing his eyes as Arianna's hands firmed on the sides of his head. Her lips met his, fever-hot, soft but chapped, and quite small compared to his. Her thumbs rubbed pleasant, warm circles along his cheeks and her lips parted, spreading over more of his lips as she ran her small tongue across them. Without thinking, he pressed her toward him and his own mouth opened, his tongue coming out to meet Arianna's.
He tasted a hint of wine, but mostly he noticed the buzz, like the faintest hint of was ever present in the air of Outland, as his tongue pushed back Arianna's and entered her mouth. That lasted for a single heartbeat before Arianna drew back and a flash of disappointment went through him as he opened his eyes.
Arianna was looking at him, a little wide-eyed , a faint tinge of red in her cheeks. Her lips were glistening, as were her chin and a little of her cheeks. She didn't look exactly displeased though and that chased away the disappointment, leaving him simply looking at her as he felt his quickened heartbeat and a light contentment.
His lips quirked as he asked cheerfully: "That bad?"
Arianna blinked and her mouth quirked in a smirk as she gave her head a shake. "We are somewhat mismatched."
She withdrew one hand from his head and wiped her lower face with it. Maurus tilted his head as she did, raised an eyebrow and flicked his ears demonstratively up at his horns. Arianna snorted.
"I didn't really appreciate how big your mouth is," she said. Her smirk grew more wry. "Or how much tongue you have."
In response, Maurus rolled out his tongue and real surprise showed on Arianna's face. She drew the other hand from his head, holding it next to his tongue and her look grew almost astonished.
A mirthful laugh burst from him before he withdrew his tongue. "I am a lot bigger than you."
At that Arianna's eyes darted around, looking past Maurus and to either side. As she did, Maurus noticed the rest of the camp for the first time since he'd sat down next to Arianna and saw that they hadn't gone unnoticed. A couple of trolls in the group at the other end of the campsite were leering, grins spread around their tusks while some of the others shot them furtive glances. He sent them a glare and they returned their attention to the people beside them. Mostly.
He'd only looked away for a moment and his attention went straight back to Arianna when she stuck out her tongue, which barely reached two thirds of the way to her chin, before pulling it back between her lips. Maurus was half-fascinated by the small, pink tongue and half-amused at how childish she had looked. He decided not to mention that and instead said lightly: "Is that all?"
"No. I see a point in lying about that," Arianna said drily.
Maurus shrugged. "I guess we'll just have get used to the differences." He looked her up and down, making no effort to hide his enjoyment as he took in the slight curves hidden beneath her red robe and raised one hand along Arianna's back and lowered the other. He grinned, pretty sure it looked a little mischievous, met Arianna's pleased gaze and said, as he pressed gently on her: "I think you might come to appreciate that difference."
Arianna put both her hands on his horns and pushed back, though her eyes lit with something impish. "We're not sharing yet," she said.
"We could," Maurus teased.
"I'd like to adjust first," she said, her hands falling down to his cheeks, below his eyes.
"No way to do that but to throw yourself into it," Maurus said warmly, leaning forw
The second kiss was only marginally less clumsy than the first, but it was promising.
So, was it worth waiting for? I would really love to hear your opinions, especially on the last bits here with Arianna, because I'm on new ground and really want to hear how I did. Positive or negative, I greatly appreciate the feedback.
Also, I apologize for the long wait. I really struggle with this these weeks.
Cheers.